Outsiders Oneshots
by Evil Author Overlords
Summary: Creative title, I know. But that's basically what this is. Oneshots from Darry's perspective when he hits Ponyboy, Soda writing the letter to Ponyboy, and Dally's death.
1. Darry

**Hello! Fluffy here. So for a Language Arts project, an alternate assignment for the Outsiders book we were reading was to write scenes from the _Outsiders_ from alternate perspectives. Naturally, Queue and I took on the challenge. When we finished, we thought 'hey, why not publish it on FanFiction?' So here you have it, the scene on page 49, the confrontation between Darry and Ponyboy from Darry's perspective.**

* * *

 _Tick. Tick. Tick._ The clock clicked above the fireplace, the hollow sound echoing throughout the house. Its hands indicated it was sometime around 1:50 am. My shaking hands indicated my nervousness.

I didn't know if it was just me, but the rhythmic ticking of the clock seemed abnormally slow. Perhaps it was just my anxiety. It wouldn't do any good denying it. I glanced over at Soda, who was turning restlessly on the sofa, occasionally glancing towards the clock himself. Though silence stretched between us, I knew we were both thinking the same thing: _where in the world was Ponyboy?_

Eventually, I decided staring at the clock wasn't going to get anything done. I drowsily reached for the newspaper on the floor and snapped it open, tapping my foot anxiously. Soda stretched out on the couch next to me, and his jagged breaths gradually evened out until they were to reduced to soft snores. He was probably dreaming how his brother would be there when he woke up. If only I were so trusting in my youngest brother.

Though my eyes skimmed the words on the paper, I didn't really comprehend what they were telling me. I glanced up every few seconds, anyway, to check the clock, door or window. My mind wasn't focused on yet another article on Dally's unlawful antics, but rather sifting through all the possibilities on where Pony could be.

 _He's probably just hanging out with Two-bit or Johnny,_ I told myself; after all, it was the most logical explanation. But I couldn't help but feel terrified for the kid. I couldn't help but imagine every worst-case scenario. He could have been jumped, lying dead on the street, or hit by a passing car, or- _no._ I sighed. I needed to calm down. Worrying wasn't going to fix anything.

I was about ready to call the police when I heard the click of the doorknob turning. My gaze darted up from the paper, and I leapt to my feet. There in the doorway stood a silhouetted Pony, avoiding my gaze and biting his fingernail.

At first I gave a rattling sigh of relief. My brother was okay. But it was short-lived; my bottled-up energy escalated almost immediately to rage. "Where the heck have you been? Do you know what time it is?"

He shook his head sheepishly.

"Well, it's two in the morning, kiddo. Another hour and I would have had the police out after you. Where were you, Ponyboy?"- I felt my voice crack- "Where in the almighty universe were you?"

"I... I went to sleep in the lot..." he stuttered dumbly.

"You _what?_ " I was shouting, and probably scaring him out of his wits. But it didn't matter: How could he have just left us to worry? Especially after what had happened to mom and dad? Sodapop sat up and rubbed his eyes.

"Hey, Ponyboy," he said sleepily, "Where ya been?" Leave it to Soda to keep his cool in such a heart-racking situation.

"I didn't mean to," whined Pony, shuffling his feet. "I was talking to Johnny and we both dropped off..."

"I reckon it never occurred to you that your brothers might be worrying their heads off and afraid to call the police because something like that could get you two thrown in a boys' home so quick it'd make your head spin. And you were asleep in the lot? Ponyboy, what on earth is the matter with you? Can't you use your head? You haven't even got a coat on." I clenched my fists. Did he even care? Why wouldn't he use that brain he brought good grades home with for something useful, for once?

"I said I didn't mean to..."

"'I didn't mean to!'" I bellowed mockingly. "'I didn't think! I forgot!' That's all I hear out of you! Can't you think of anything?"

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Soda getting to his feet. "Darry..." Sodapop started. I whipped around to face him. "You keep your trap shut! I'm sick and tired of hearin' you stick up for him." He didn't deserve to be stuck up for, not today. He needed to learn to keep himself out of trouble.

At that, Pony exploded. "You don't yell at him!" he cried.

That was the last straw. I could yell at whoever the heck I wanted to! Wasn't I the one, after all, who'd cared and provided for this pathetic family for all our orphaned years? Wasn't I the one who'd put up with Pony's excuses? I was so blind with rage that I wheeled around and slapped Pony so hard that I saw the little guy fall back against the door.

Sometimes I was surprised by my own strength. That night, I was appalled.

It took a few seconds for me to realize what I had done. I froze. My brothers did the same, both staring at me in silent shock. Nobody had ever hit anyone in this family. Nobody. Soda gaped at me, appalled. I stared at the palm of my hand, where it was starting to sting red. I looked up wide-eyed to my youngest brother. "Ponyboy..."

I tried to grab the back of his shirt as he turned and sprinted out the door.

"Pony, I didn't mean to!" I screamed after him, but he was too far down the street to hear me by then, I imagine. _That kid always could run_ , I thought hopelessly.

I turned to Soda, trying to express how sorry I was. But he just glared at me coldly, and spun around off to his room. I opened my mouth, but no words came out. I couldn't justify what I had done.

Numbly, I fell back against the chair, and rubbed my face with my hands. Man, I didn't usually smoke, but I needed to cool down. It'd be beyond my luck for Pony to forgive me for what I had done. Soda, too. I knew I had crossed the line.


	2. Soda

**Fluffy again. And wow, that was a quick review, mycookiegirl! And yeah, Queue and I did think a lot about Darry's "pathetic family" and how much he valued it, even if he didn't really express that. This is the second one is a "behind the scenes" oneshot, of Soda writing the letter, found on page 81-82. Well, our interpretation of it, anyway. Enjoy.**

* * *

I swiveled the pencil between my fingers, head leaned back, blank paper in front of me.

 _ **Ponyboy,**_ I scrawled nonchalantly. I wasn't entirely sure why I was even doing this; it was unlikely he would even read the letter anyway. But Dally was true to his word, and said he would deliver it. But he wouldn't spill my brother's location, not even give out one detail. He said they were safe, though. I suppose that counts for something.

I tapped the pencil on my chin, drawing a blank. Well, maybe the opposite. A million thoughts churned around in my head, but I didn't know how to catch them. I was a bit- well, more than a bit- indignant about the whole thing, but I had a feeling yelling at Pony wouldn't help matters any. Darry had already proved that.

Well, shoot, here I go:

 _ **Well I guess you got into some trouble, huh?**_ I scrawled, _**Darry and me nearly went nuts when you ran out like that. Darry is awful sorry he hit you.**_  
Because it was true. Darry regretted it, more than he's probably ever regretted anything. He slept a lot nowadays, or tried to, at least; even now he tossed restlessly on the couch beside me. He wasn't asleep, though. His eyes were glazed over as he stared at the ceiling. I gave a rattling sigh and wrote on:

 _ **It's awfully quiet without you around,**_ I started to write before rubbing it out with my eraser. No use making him feel guilty. It was true, though. The silence that hung in the air made my extroverted self want to scream.

I took a deep breath and tried again, deciding to talk more about Darry:

 _ **You know he didn't mean it. And then you and Johnny turned up mising and what with that dead kid in the park and Dally getting hauled into the station, well it scared us something awful. The police came by to question us and we told them as much as we could.**_

I never really liked police; during the whole interrogation, they kept glaring at Darry and me as if it was _our_ fault this happened, as if we knew something we weren't telling.

I shook my head and got back to the letter:

 _ **I can't believe little old Johnny could kill somebody. I know Dally knows where you are, but you know him. He keeps his trap shut and won't tell me nothing.**_ I gave a quick glance up to Dally, who stood impatiently in the doorway, before going on:

 _ **Darry hasn't got the slightest notion where you're at and it is nearly killing him. I wish you'd come back and turn your selfves in but I guess you can't since Johnny might get hurt. You sure are famous. You got a paragraph in the newspaper even. Take care and say hi to Johnny for us.**_ I rambled. Should I go back and add something about Sandy? Nah. As I said, there was no point making him feel guilty. I decided just to end it there with my signature.

 _ **Sodapop Curtis**_

 _There_ , I thought, folding it in half, satisfied. I knew he'd hound me about my spelling if. . . _when_ he got back, but nonetheless, I handed it to Dallas and sent him on his way, hopeful.

* * *

 **Okay, so this (the above) was the official one. But in the process of planning this particular oneshot, we got a little, erm, _distracted,_ and made a parody of the above. Hence, this.**

* * *

I sighed a heavy, rattling sigh, and scribbled out my letter, bead of sweat running down my spine, every so often glancing nervously at my apparently-possessed brother.

It was awfully uncomfortable in the room, with Darry writhing unnaturally on the sofa beside me, eyes glazed over, expression contorted with regret. Under his breath, I could hear him muttering, saying something along the lines of "Ponyboy… Ponyboy…"

I buried my face in my hands. How was I supposed to concentrate with all this? "Da-arry!" I hollered. "Shut u-up! I'm trying to wor-rk!"

I don't think he could hear me.

He was shivering, and proceeded to curl up in the fetal position. I rolled my eyes, stood, and walked over to my older brother, shaking his side, urging, "C' _mon_ , Darry! How will I finish my letter with you like this? Ponyboy-"

I didn't get to finish my sentence, for he interrupted me with an agonized groan at the sound of his name. "Ponyboy! Don't talk to me about _Ponyboy!_ Out there, all alone… too precious for this world..." His speech was reduced to whimpers.

I shook my head. "Fine. Have your spazz attack. I'll be back." With that, I flipped my hair and strode out of the room, whipping the door shut behind me. I could hear Darry's muffled cries, but I didn't care. It wasn't _my_ responsibility to deal with him!

I met Dally on the doorstep, but I put my nose in the air and swaggered past him. I strode under the shadow that loomed over our front yard. "You know, Soda, they say you should never walk under a blue whalk," called Dally after me.

"What?" I looked briefly upwards, to see a sheet of some cream-colored _substance_ raining down upon me.

 _Splorch._


	3. Dally

**This is the last oneshot we wrote for the _Outsiders._ This is from Dally's perspective of his last moments, and starts from when he was robbing the store. Yeah, we actually did our research for this chapter. . . kids, don't google "how to steal beer" in the middle of Language Arts class, and don't listen to what Kevin has to tell you. To be fair though, he did know what he was talking about in his website, and it was useful to us for writing this. **

**We just hope that no one saw us dying from laughter in the middle of class.**

* * *

I loitered around the store, looking for something I at least _sort of_ wanted. I stared at the racks, and paused. For some reason, none of this stuff appealed to me like it usually did, but there was no use stealing something entirely useless, even if it was just to get the fuzz after me. . .

I eyed the pop and booze aisle, but decided against it. There's no hiding a six pack in your jacket. _Heh, heh. . ._

I kept a stoic expression, even if it was my own joke. I wasn't in the mood for jokes.

I meandered absent-mindedly down to the freezer aisle and moseyed down to the end, where there was one of those freezers lined with drinks. The brown, glass bottles were in a row near the bottom. Now _those_ I could do.

I chanced a glance at the cashier to make sure he was preoccupied. Good, an old lady's in line. That'll keep him busy.

I took a deep breath to calm myself down and keep my hands from trembling, as they'd been doing ever since. . . that visit to the hospital. Then I popped open the freezer door and stooped down, conscientiously nonchalant. I kept ahold of the bottle behind the prize one to keep them from clinking together, concentrating all the while that I was nobody, I was invisible, don't look over here. . .

Careful to not draw any attention, I slipped the Budweiser into my jacket. _So far, so good._ The freezer door was fogging up, too, so all of me but my feet was hidden from sight from that direction. Why not another bottle? What the heck. You only live once. Johnny did, after all. Live once, that is. . .

For a second, I stared blankly at the stained linoleum floor. Why Johnny, out of all people? . . . I shook my head quickly to clear my mind. The kid would have to wait his turn to be in my thoughts, this time. For now, the job at hand.

I gingerly eased another bottle out of the freezer and into my jacket. They made a small _clink_ as they made contact. I winced, but luckily the old lady was still busy busying the cashier. I thought about taking another, but decided it wasn't necessary. It's not like I'd be drinking it anyway.

Strolling up to the cashier, I put my elbows on the counter and said in a tired voice, "Get me a twenty-pack of Camels."

He looked me over and opened his mouth, but upon seeing the hardened look on my face, clearly decided against saying whatever he was going to. He turned around to face the stocked shelves and pulled down a pack. He handed them to me, saying, "That'll be thirty-five- _hey!_ Get back here!"

The second the cigarettes had transferred to my grasp, I had spun and ran, one of the bottles of beer slipping out of my jacket and shattering on the floor behind me. My pace didn't falter. In my peripheral vision, I could see him frantically pick up his phone and I heard him shout, "Operator! Get me the police!"

I didn't stick around to hear the rest of the conversation. I had gone three blocks before I skidding to a stop, gasping for breath, and ducked into a telephone booth. I grabbed the phone, shoved in some quarters, and punched in Darry's number without even looking at the buttons. He picked up on the third ring.

"Hello?"

"It's Dally," I panted. "I just stole some stuff from a grocery store but the police are after me now and you gotta hide me. Meet y'all at the lot." He hung up before I had time to say anything more, but I knew they'd be on their way. They would all be there. Good.

I broke into a sprint when I first heard the sirens, running for the lot as fast as I could, knowing that I _had_ to be there. I couldn't get caught anywhere else if I wanted an audience, and I certainly did.

As I turned into the lot, I saw the gang race in from the opposite side, and look at me in surprise when I didn't stop.

The police pulled into the lot, their tires skidding and sirens blaring, making me stop right under a street light. Go figure.

Time seemed to slow down. I saw all my friends except Johnny - _except for Johnny_ \- staring at me with identical horror-stricken expressions on their red, white and blue illuminated faces. I yanked my unloaded heater from my belt, and the police yelling "Freeze!" barely even registered to me. My eyes skimmed over each one of my friends' as I held up the gun, so they'd at least have no one to blame. All I had to blame for Johnny were those darned kids, and myself.

I jolted as several bullets met their mark. As I fell, abdomen throbbing, wet and painful fluid filled my throat. I anticipated the concrete.

* * *

 **And thus concludes our _Outsiders_ oneshots. Hope you enjoyed!**

 **~Evil Author Overlords**


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